


Comfort

by lindenrosetps



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, and gets many, the batfam is a loving family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26161297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindenrosetps/pseuds/lindenrosetps
Summary: Five times Damian looked for support from his siblings and one time they came to him.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Comments: 32
Kudos: 490





	Comfort

Dick was unable to bring himself to sleep. He'd tried everything but finally just ended up staring at the ceiling, wondering vaguely if this was how Tim felt.

_Tim. His Tim. Where was his little brother? Was he okay?_

He heard the faint creak of the floorboards in the hallway and stiffened, reaching for the escrima stick by his bed instinctively. Then the door to his room cracked open and a small figure was sillhoutted in the moonlight.

"Damian?" whispered Dick in shock, hastily tucking the stick away.

Damian didn't say a word. He pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, curling up against Dick's side.

"Hey, Little D." Dick gently smoothed the hair back from his forehead, frowning slightly. "You're really warm."

"I feel dreadful," muttered Damian, his voice muffled by the covers.

"How so?" Dick gently moved him back a bit so he could check him over. The boy was sweating and looked entirely miserable.

"I'm running a fever, Grayson," grunted Damian. "'n my throat hurts."

"Do you want something for it?"

Damian shook his head, nestling against Dick again. Dick sighed, planting a kiss in his hair. "Try and get some sleep, bud. We'll see how you feel in the morning."

Damian nodded slightly and Dick wrapped him in his arms. He smiled as he felt the boy's breathing evening out.

Between the warmth of his brother in his arms and the gentle sound of his breathing, Dick felt himself beginning to nod off as well.

Maybe he was imagining it, but he could've sworn he heard Damian whisper "I love you" into his chest as his eyes began to droop.

"I love you too, Dami," murmured Dick. "I love you, too."

\---------

"Father." Bruce looked up as Damian stepped into the study. "You are working late."

Bruce cocked an eyebrow at him. "It's four in the morning, Damian. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Damian scoffed. Bruce frowned slightly, looking him over. His son's face was a bit paler than normal and his hands were balled into tight fists. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," said Damian tightly. Bruce sighed, motioning him over.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"No." Damian's face _definitely_ said yes.

"Really? No nightmares. Would you like to help me, then?"

"With what? A case?"

Bruce shook his head. "Just office things, I'm afraid. I'm still part of Wayne Enterprises."

Damian wrinkled his nose. "Isn't that what _Drake's_ for?"

"Tim can't do it all." Bruce patted his lap gently. "Want to help?"

"No." Damian huffed, climbing onto Bruce's lap. "What're you doing?"

"Deciding where to send this grant money."

Damian looked over the lists of charities in the spreadsheet, then slowly pointed to one. Bruce smiled softly as he realized it was the humane society. "Good choice."

"They could use it," muttered Damian, hiding a yawn.

"You could go to sleep, you know."

Damian shook his head, blinking his eyes back open stubbornly. "Are we giving out more?"

Bruce nodded and began going down the list, explaining the details of the charities and the help they needed. Damian listened intently at first, but soon his eyes began to droop as his head nodded onto Bruce's chest. Within moments, he was fast asleep.

Bruce smiled, gathering the boy into his arms gently and slipping out of the room. He tucked Damian in in his own bed. "Goodnight, son."

Damian stirred slightly, rolling over and grabbing Bruce's hand.

"Damian. I need to go back to work."

Damian merely clung tighter, snuggling further under the covers. So Bruce sat down on the bed and scooped him up, leaning back against the headboard. Damian gave a contented sigh, smiling peacefully, and Bruce felt his heart melting.

Work could wait. Damian could not.

\-----------

_Plié. Revelé. Passé. Plié. Relevé. Ron de shaun. Plié..._

As Cass worked at the barre, she became aware of another presence beside her. A quick glance in the mirror told her that she had been joined by Damian, still half in his Robin uniform.

Something was bothering him. She didn't know what it was, but he clearly didn't want to be left alone. So Cass smiled at him and stepped away from the barre, performing some more warm-ups. He stood near her, moving in sync.

As Cass's music shifted the warm-ups slowly shifted into a dance. She and Damian circled each other, then slipped into a duet. Damian held his arm above his head and she twirled gracefully, then lifted him over her shoulder. Damian spread his arms as though he was flying, a slow smile lighting his face.

The playlist shifted genres, so the dancers shifted as well. They went from ballet to hip-hop to lyrical to swing to ballet again. Finally they finished, both hot, sweaty, and smiling. Damian bowed to her and she curtsied, then stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around him.

He was shaking in her grip and Cass hugged him closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered.

Damian nodded slightly, squeezing back. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

It was a long, long time before either of them let go.

\----------------

_Thank freaking God for Bruce Wayne_ , thought Steph, humming as she stepped into her apartment. He'd insisted on getting her her own place instead of having her stay in a crowded dorm room while she was in college. Bruce said that it was to protect her secret identity. No other reason. It wasn't like he _cared_ about his son's girlfriend, after all. No, definitely not.

Anyways, she was immensely grateful not to have to deal with dorms. No roommates for her, thanks.

Then Steph noticed the trail of blood on the floor and groaned, slapping her forehead. That was the _downside_ of a Bruce Wayne sponsored apartment. His kids showed up at the worst times and there was no stopping them. "Okay! Whoever's in here, how badly are you hurt? Shout once for alive and twice for dead."

The frustrated huff from the kitchen was instantly identifiable as Damian. "C'mon, Demon Brat. Don't be that way."

She stepped into the room and froze for a moment, then sighed. Damian was precariously perched on the counter, his leg stuck in the sink. Half of the pant leg was missing and blood trickled down it.

"Don't just stand there, Brown!" he snapped.

"Damian, what the hell?" Steph set a towel down on the floor, then gently transferred him to it and grabbed the first aid supplies from under the sink.

"I got shot."

"Well, _duh._ Why were you trying to scrub it in the sink?"

"I was _trying_ to clean it." Damian hissed, biting his lip as she worked on the wound.

"Eesh, kid, hold still. I'm not gonna be able to do this if you keep moving around on me."

"I am holding still! It's not my fault that you are entirely incompetent."

Steph sighed, finishing up. She grinned impishly, then pressed a kiss to her fingertips and brushed them across the wound. "There. Kissed it better."

"You are ridiculous."

"Yep. Wanna tell me what happened, Brat Wonder?"

Damian's face fell slightly. "Nothing. I wasn't fast enough. This is the result."

"You know that we're not speedsters, right?"

"You don't have to console me, Brown. It was my mistake. I will take the consequences."

Steph studied him for a moment. "Y'know, kid, you've come a long way."

Damian gave her a deadpan stare.

"But I think you kinda went off on a left turn there. And ended up in the middle of Dramatic Herotown. Batman's the mayor."

"Do you have a _point_ to this?"

"Yeah. You gotta hook a right back into _normal kid who doesn't blame himself for getting shot_ territory. It's happened to literally all of us. Chill."

Damian scoffed. "I am not the rest of you."

"Sure you are." Steph ruffled his hair. "You're one of us now."

"Shut up." Damian shoved her hand away.

"One of us, one of us, one of us, one of us..."

"Brown, so help me, I will throw myself out the window and then you will have to explain to my father what happened."

"Awww, c'mon. He'd probably just grab the next kid he saw."

Damian rolled his eyes, but there was the telltale hint of a grin underneath.

"Get some rest, kid. I'll get Nightwing to come get you in a bit."

"Fine. If only to get away from you." Damian limped over to the couch and faceplanted onto it.

Steph covered him with a blanket and gently brushed a wisp of hair out of his eyes. "Sleep well, gremlin."

Damian grunted fondly. It wasn't _quite_ a thank you, but it was as close as Damian Wayne got. Steph chuckled, slipping out of the room and turning off the lights.

\--------

_Whack. Whack. Whack._ Damian attacked the punching bag viciously, his face screwing up further with every hit.

Duke walked in the room, a bag of chips in his hand, then froze. "Uhhhh... hi, Dames? What're you doing in my hatch?"

Damian ignored him, continuing to attack the bag.

"You good there, buddy?"

Tears swam in his eyes and his breath came in short gasps.

Duke sighed, then grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and handed it to him. "Here. Why don't you take a break?"

Damian plopped onto a bench, gulping down the water.

"What's going on?"

Damian finished the water bottle and threw it across the room.

"Or you could not tell me." Duke pulled out his phone and sent a text to Nightwing. _Did something happen to Damian?_

_Ran into some child traffickers. He got pretty heated. Did you find him?_

_Yeah. I'll deal with him._

Duke shoved his phone in his pocket and studied Damian for a moment. "You wanna play a game?"

Damian gave him an incredulous look.

"It'll be fun. Come on." Duke steered him over to the table and grabbed a deck of cards.

"What are we playing?"  
"War." He dealt out the cards and they began to play.

Damian played listlessly at first, frowning as he bent over his cards. Then as the game progressed he got more intense, trying to anticipate Duke's moves whenever a war occurred.

Realization finally dawned in his eyes and he gave Duke a withering scowl, then swept the cards off the table. "You were _cheating!_ "

Duke gave an innocent grin. "Me? Cheating?"

"You stacked the deck?"

"Now, why would I do that?"

"Thomas!"

"Alright, alright. We can play something that I can't cheat at. Like.... fifty-two card pickup."

"No. Grayson tried that on me already."

"Too bad, we're playing it anyways. You got my cards everywhere."

"You're the one who cheated. You pick them up."

"Nope. You threw them."

Damian tried to shove them but Duke dodged out of the way, grinning. "C'mon, man. You _know_ that doesn't work."

"It will too!" Damian charged after him, almost smiling. Duke laughed, vaulting over the couch.

"See if you can catch me, then!"

"You're on, Thomas!"

The sound of laughter filled the hatch as the boys chased each other around, the cards forgotten on the floor.

\--------

Damian was curled up on his bed, his face buried in Alfred's fur. The cat purred, licking a tear from Damian's cheek.

Grayson had gotten hurt. Grayson could die. And it was all because he hadn't been good enough.

Boots stomped down the hall outside his room and Damian curled further under the covers, silently praying that they _wouldn't_ come in.

Of course, they did anyways. The door burst open and Tim stepped in, grinning. There was a cheesy talk show theme song blaring from his phone. "Gooooood morning, Damian!"

"No."

"Joining us here in this lovely morning in Gotham city - well, as lovely as Gotham ever gets - we have the amazing _Jason Todd!_ "

Jason stepped in beside him, bowing as Tim played an applause track. Alfred hissed, darting out from Damian's grip and running under the bed.

"No!" protested Damian, reaching for him. "Alfred!" He turned and shot the boys a withering glare. "Go _away._ "

"Let's go to news," said Tim, ignoring him. "Jason, what do we have for news today?"

"Dick Grayson is... dun duhh duhh duhhh... on the mend! Leslie says that he's gonna be A-okay. In a few days our favorite Dickiebird will be back in the manor, flipping off everything he can find and driving us all insane."

Damian froze, struggling between the flutter of hope, the irritation at his brothers, and the lingering sense that it was all his fault.

"Next up on the agenda is food! I _know_ you haven't eaten a lot in the past few days. Uhhh... Jay, did you bring the food?"

"Yeah, it's right here." Jason stepped outside the door again and returned with a tray. Half of it was a delicious-looking breakfast of crepes, fruit, and a glass of orange juice. The other was a very sad piece of toast and bowl of cereal. "Tim helped make it. Guess which part's his."

Damian looked at them, then buried his head under his pillow.

"Come on, Little D," said Tim. "Don't be like that."

Damian's shoulders began to shake at the sound of the nickname. Tim winced, taking a step back.

"Jay - Jay, is he crying?" he whispered. "Crap, he's crying."

Jason gave him a deadpan look. "Oh, you think?" He sighed, sitting down on the bed next to the boy. "Alright, kid. You can keep crying under the pillow or we could talk about it."

"Go away!" Damian hit him with the pillow.

"Or you could do that."

"Dames," said Tim. "You know it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was."

"You didn't see the guy there."

"I should've seen him!" Damian screwed his eyes shut, burying his head in his arms. "I should've seen him coming. But I didn't, and..."

"And Dick's gonna be just fine." Jason wrapped an arm around him gently. "He's tough. You know he'll bounce back."

Damian shuddered, looking away.

"Hey," said Tim. "I don't know what kind of crap Ra's told you, but I know from experience that you can't be perfect at everything. You're gonna make mistakes."

" _You_ might, Drake."

"If you keep putting this much pressure on yourself, you're gonna break. I should know. You know we love you, right?"

Damian rolled his eyes.

"We do. Hey, y'know what? Let's do a movie breakfast. Then you can go see Dick."

"Will I get rid of you any other way?"

"Nope!" Jason settled back against the headboard cheerfully. Tim plopped down on his other side, the three of them narrowly perched on the twin bed. Tim pulled up a movie on his phone and let it play.

Breakfast did not happen, at least not for a few hours. Because Damian fell asleep, happily squished between his brothers.


End file.
